


From The Beginning

by AthenaFangGranger26



Series: The Adventures of 'Lizabeth Page [12]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: AUs everywhere!, Gen, Genderswap, I'm helpless against the idea of crossovers, Potter!Lock, Wholock, this was so awesome to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenaFangGranger26/pseuds/AthenaFangGranger26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If it hadn't been. Six ways that Liz may have met the deducing duo, had it not been that fateful day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From The Beginning

1\. Lestrade's Niece  
Sherlock and John arrived at the crime scene like they do normally. Everything about this case was normal. The dead woman and the paint note on the wall. A suicide obviously, the painted wall explaining the reasoning.  
At least, it was normal until the teenager pranced onto the scene.   
She was fairly tall and thin. She had a full head of corkscrew curls, dark as night, falling down her shoulders. She wore a graphic tee advertising some band and holey blue jeans.  
A distressed Sally Donovan followed in her wake, trying in vain to get ahold of the girl.  
"Sorry, sir. She wouldn't listen." Sally started apologizing to D.I. Lestrade.  
Lestrade sighed in much the same way he did when he dealt with Sherlock. He then turned to look at the girl, prompting her explanation.  
"Oh, c'mon, Uncle Greg. Did you really expect me to miss out on a crime scene? It's not my fault it happened earlier than ten, I wasn't up yet. You could've woken me." The girl said, the subtext clearly read 'Obviously'.  
"'Lizabeth, go home. Your mum doesn't like when I let you here." Lestrade sighed.  
"What she doesn't know won't hurt her." The girl said with a certain twinkle in her dark blue eyes.  
She spun, agile and quick, and examined what was before her. She rolled her eyes as she checked out the body.  
"Suicide, obviously. Why does everyone think that's the answer? It's not like we all go to a sparkly, perfect place in the clouds. Besides that'd be deathly boring." She paused midrant. "Hah! I'm funny. 'Deathly'."  
"Excuse me, who are you?" Sherlock finally demanded, tired of the girl's meddling.  
She did another comical spin. She narrowed her eyes at the detective. The cogs in her brain were visible in her narrowed gaze. Then they grew wide and she exclaimed "Oh!"  
"Sherlock Holmes, right? I'm 'Lizabeth Page. Greg's my uncle. My mum's his sister. So, are you as clever as everyone says? Or is it all blown out of proportion for the media?"  
She looked rather proud of her outburst. But Sherlock stared at her, narrowing his eyes.  
"I don't need to answer to a child." He scoffed.  
"Too scared?" The girl taunted, then she exclaimed. "Oi! I'm not a child!"  
"Please. You're barely sixteen years old. Evident in your physique and obviously childish behavior. And your lack of disrespect."  
"Oi!" The girl glared at Sherlock, her fury barely bridled.  
"You're right, Uncle. He is a right prat. Pleasure to meet you, Sherlock Holmes. Same, Doctor Watson. I'm going to the cinema, Uncle. Text me when you get home."  
With that the girl stomped off, practically snarling at Sally as she passed. The second she was gone, Lestrade sighed heavily.  
"She's nearly as bad as you, Sherlock. I'm surprised you two butt heads." He commented.  
"She's intriguing to say the least." Sherlock muttered. "It's a normal suicide, Detective Inspector. Dull. Good day."  
With that the detective was gone.

2\. Star Wars AU  
"Master Watson, a new padawan you shall have." The small green figure of Master Yoda was saying.  
"Oh, is Sherlock being reassigned then?" Jedi Master John Watson asked.  
He and the wise short Jedi Master were strolling through a corridor in the vast Jedi Temple. They had managed to drop off his rambunctious apprentice elsewhere for a moment alone to talk.  
"No, no. The only Master to tolerate young Holmes, you are. Stay with you, Sherlock will. Join you both, a new padawan will."  
"Oh. When can I meet him?"  
"Her. Meet her we will when collected young Holmes we have."  
"Alright, let's go get him then." Master Watson suggested.  
"Leave you to it, I will. Quite a handful your new padawan, will be. Train her well, I hope you can." Master Yoda smiled and dismissed the fellow Master with a nod of his head. He shook his head as Master Watson headed down another corridor. If anyone could at least try to tame the wild child the new padawan was, it would Master Watson and his genius apprentice and friend, Sherlock Holmes.

Master John Watson walked into the holoroom where he'd left his apprentice. He expected to find his apprentice with his dark curly head buried in one holo or another.  
He did not expect to see his apprentice locked in a heated argument with a short girl.  
The girl wasn't actually short, it was clearly evident that she had some tall genes in her. She was lean and athletic looking, as most Jedi were. Her hair was long and curly, dark like the surface of Correscant from the atmosphere. The customary thin padawan braid was draped down her shoulder. She had dark cobalt eyes that were narrowed, but were alight with a blue fire.  
"How can you even say that the stars don't matter? We live in a star system for crying out loud. You're a Jedi, you travel amongst the stars!" The girl was screaming at the top of her lungs, narrowed eyes daring Sherlock to answer her back.  
"I don't pilot the ship; John does. I don't need to know any more than what the navigation systems provide." Sherlock scoffed in his normal arrogant voice.  
"Are you kidding me? Wow, okay. What does Master Watson see in you?" The girl laughed mirthlessly.  
"I see a genius Jedi in the making. Please refrain from insulting my friend. Who exactly are you?" John finally decided to butt in.  
The girl spun, eyes suddenly wide. She was caught in the act of bullying and she had no way out.  
"Ah, Master Watson. Hello. Sorry, I find your apprentice's lack of knowledge of the star systems disturbing." She threw a disgruntled look over her shoulder at Sherlock. "Oh, sorry. I'm 'Lizabeth Page, your new padawan."  
"As I assumed. Please don't argue. I don't think I could handle that. If either of you don't get along, I won't be afraid to reassign either of you." John sighed, fixing his companions with a harsh gaze.  
"Of course, Master." 'Lizabeth grinned.  
"Yes, John." Sherlock muttered.  
"Good. Let's get to work. Let's go see what you can do, Page." John smiled.

"'Lizabeth!" John yelled. "Stay back!"  
The girl in question ignored his warning and leapt into the oncoming blaster fire. She ignited her lightsaber and was lost in a flurry of vibrant blue energy.  
She reflected the blaster fire easily, knocking out most of the basic battle droids. She force leaped over a particular close shot and immediately took down the droid that had taken the shot.   
"Liz! Destroyers!" Sherlock called out the warning.  
Then just as quickly as 'Lizabeth had leapt into the battle, Sherlock was right behind her. He dashed to her side and pressed his back to hers, igniting his green blade lightsaber.  
The two worked a quick ballet, accompanying the other perfectly. If Sherlock moved, 'Lizabeth moved. If 'Lizabeth struck down a Destroyer's energy shield, Sherlock was there to put the droid in pieces.  
Before John even had a chance to draw his own weapon and join the skirmish, the two young Jedi were grinning in the smoking wreckage of a whole troop of droids.  
Well, 'Lizabeth was grinning, Sherlock just wore a satisfied smirk. The two turned and replaced their weapons on their belts.   
"That. Was. Brilliant." 'Lizabeth crowed suddenly, bumping her shoulder into Sherlock's.  
"Yes, alright. Impressive. We're here on a mission though." John chuckled, going to round up the two genius, brilliant, amazing Jedi-in-the-making.  
"Yes, Master." The two chorused, chuckling to themselves as they followed their equally genius, brilliant, amazing Master.  
None of them could ask for a better team.

3\. Potter!lock  
"Page, Elizabeth."   
A small girl with a mess of wild dark curls shuffled up to the stool. She slowly scooted her bum onto the wooden stool, trying not to wring her hands together nervously. She eyed the four full tables of children staring back at her.  
"Oh, please. Let it be a cool house." She muttered to herself.  
"A cool house, eh?" A sudden gruff voice whispered in her ear. She nearly leapt a mile. "So, not Hufflepuff. I've never met a Hufflepuff with your rebellious streak, Hufflepuff is out of the question. Hmm, not particularly brave or chivalrous. Not Gryffindor. The snark is much alike that of Slytherin. But, I don't see you as quite cunning. Thinks greatly of yourself, you call yourself genius to others. Hmm, knowledge, yes. You seek it. Yes, yes. I think so...hmmm, yes."  
"RAVENCLAW!"  
She let out a sigh of relief. She hopped off the stool and nearly sprinted to her new house table.   
She noticed a small boy sitting near the end of the table. He had a head of curly black hair and teal blue eyes trained on the table.  
She skipped over to sit across from the boy.  
"Hi, I'm 'Lizabeth. What's your name?"  
"McGonagall read your name as Elizabeth. The sorting hat almost sorted you into Slytherin. You call yourself a genius, you're a Muggleborn witch from London. You have no idea what you are doing here." The boy fired off each sentence faster than the one before it.  
"Yes, and I asked you your name."   
"And I chose not to answer." The boy snapped.  
"Geez, chill out. I was just asking because you seemed alone. I was just wondering if you wanted to be friends." The girl looks down, hurt for a moment.  
"I don't need friends. If I needed friends, I'd be over at the Slytherin table!"  
"Oh, sorry. If you'd like a friend, I'm here. I met a nice boy on the train. His name is John." The girl smiled, looking up just as said boy was sorted into Gryffindor.  
"See, he's in Gryffindor. I bet he'd be all up for mercilessly pranking the Slytherins later."  
"My brother is in Slytherin." The boy mumbled.  
"I bet John could get us some of those famous Weasley products to slip him."   
"Mycroft wouldn't like that. But to see his face covered in boils might be humorous." The boy let out a low chuckle.  
"So, will you tell me your name?"  
The boy let his lips quirk into a smirk. "Sherlock Holmes."  
"Great, nice to meet you Sherlock. You're quite strange, but I like it. As you pointed out, I am a Muggleborn. And my name is Elizabeth. But please call me 'Lizabeth. Everyone does. 'Cept John; he calls me Liz." The girl grinned.  
"Um, likewise...Liz." Sherlock Holmes said.

"Ooh, John. Do you think you could do that?" 'Lizabeth asked.  
She watched the burly boy atop his broomstick swoop closer to the stands, swatting at a rather large floating ball with a small bat.  
"What? A Beater?" The blond boy beside her asked.  
"Yeah." 'Lizabeth breathed, positively fascinated with the brilliant sport.  
"Yeah, maybe I could." John smiled.  
"Nonsense, John. You'd have to put on quite a bit of weight in muscle to compete with most of Hogwarts' Beaters. At this rate you'd be better suited for Keeper or Chaser." Sherlock Holmes never once glanced up from his copy of Hogwarts: A History.  
"Hey, be nice Sherlock." Liz quipped, swatting the boy's arm. "I think John could do it. Besides what do you know about Quidditch? You read during every match."  
"You're a Mudblood. How much do 'you' know about Quidditch?" Sherlock retorted.  
John instantly enveloped the smaller girl in a hug as she reacted to Sherlock's words. Neither of them mentioned the girl's blood status. It was never necessary; she was genius compared to some of the other first year students. Almost as good as Hermione Granger.  
"Sherlock." John said in a warning tone.  
Sherlock recognized the tone and glanced up. When his quicksilver eyes met the sight of his two friends embraced, the smaller of the two-his first friend 'Lizabeth-trying hard not to cry, he instantly backtracked.  
"I...apologize, 'Lizabeth. That was uncalled for."  
"You're right about that. It was downright rude, Sherlock Holmes." 'Lizabeth growled, not relinquishing her hold on John.  
The two stayed like that the rest of the match. They still chatted with Sherlock, but it was clear Sherlock had passed a boundary he was not to cross again.

'Lizabeth had been petrified.  
Whatever was stalking the halls at night and catching Muggleborns out of bed had gotten her. She had been in a back corridor, practicing her transfiguration charm. She had managed to turn her hedgehog into a teacup. But then the beast had gotten her.  
And now she was frozen in the Hospital Wing, where John sat by her bedside. He held her unmoving, wax-like hand as best he could.   
Sherlock would be back any minute, hopefully with books to figure out how to fix Liz.  
The boys were at a loss without their snarky female companion. Life was.boring without the evenings Liz planned. Sherlock and John didn't see each other near as much without Liz dragging them both to hidden corridors to chat.  
"Don't worry, we'll fix this Lizzy." John whispered. "If we can't, I'm sure Dumbledore can."  
John leaned down and kissed the hand he held. The waxy skin felt gross and unreal, but John enjoyed the sentiment.  
Just then Sherlock flung the doors open, two heavy volumes in his arms. He marched pointedly to the place across from John and plopped the books on 'Lizabeth's stomach.  
"Careful!" John exclaimed, immediately lifting the weight. "She's not dead. That could hurt her."  
"Nonsense. Petrification is like Rigor Mortis. The body seizes up. You should know this." Sherlock scoffed, starting to reach for one of the books John held.  
"Not everyone's a genius like you, Sherlock." John protested, holding the books out of Sherlock's reach.  
Both boys suddenly paused, staring at each other. The silence grew deafening. Finally, Sherlock spoke.  
"Sorry, I was waiting for 'Lizabeth to make a sarcastic comment and break up our fighting."   
John broke into laughter. "Yeah, she'd have told us to kiss and make up."  
"Yes, she would have." Sherlock said quietly.  
"She would have claimed to be a genius just like you, and she'd ramble something off to prove her point." John continued.  
Sherlock nodded, a small smile twisting his usually stoic lips.  
"And...and, Merlin, I miss her." John broke off.  
"Mmhm," Sherlock mumbled, glancing down at their still companion. "She just looks...'wrong'. Her eyes shouldn't be that still; they should be darting about, solving problems. Her skin shouldn't be that pale."  
"It should be pink on her cheeks. It would be even more so now," John piped up, "if she knew we were talking about her like this."  
"Yes, it would. She'd yell at us, and tell us we're strange..."  
"But that she likes it when we're strange." John smiled.  
"And then you would say something corny about her tendencies to be just as strange, and how we enjoy it too."  
"Because it's true."  
"Yes, very true."  
Sherlock finally reached for his book again, and succeeded in getting it from John's grasp. That was clue enough that the reminiscing moment was over and the hard pressed research was required. They had to, to save their friend.

"Sherlock?"  
"Hmm?"  
"Think John's okay?"  
"I'm sure he's fine."  
"But what about Harry? He's a Gryffindor. John could have been in the common room!"  
"Yes, and if he had and had he been injured in any way, I'm sure a professor would have told us already. You forget how adamant John can be when it comes to his friends' safety."  
"Oh, right. Silly me."  
"Yes. Go to sleep. Before Dumbledore comes over. Or worse, Mycroft or Lestrade."  
"Okay. Night, Sherlock."  
"Good night."  
"..."  
"Sherlock?"  
"What, Liz?"  
"Do you think it was Sirius Black?"  
"I don't know. I don't have enough evidence."  
"But-"  
"Go to bed, 'Lizabeth."  
"..."  
"Sherlock?"  
"What?"  
"I'm scared."  
"Don't be. John and I will protect you."  
"But-"  
"Even from a pychopathic escapee from Azkaban."  
"Oh."  
"Go to bed."  
"..."  
"Sherlock?"  
"What, 'Lizabeth?"  
"Can you scoot closer? I can't sleep."  
"..."  
"Thank you."  
"..."  
"By the way, I'd protect you from a pychopathic escapee from Azkaban too."  
"GOOD NIGHT, 'LIZABETH."  
"..."  
"Good night, Sherlock."

"Yule Ball. What rubbish."  
Sherlock rolled his eyes and walked pointedly in the other direction of the group of females watching him. 'Lizabeth and John followed with a chuckle.  
"I don't know. I was thinking about asking Sarah to go with me." John commented.  
"Aw, John. How cute." 'Lizabeth giggled, then she paused. "Wait, which Sarah?"  
"The one from my own house, silly. Sarah Sawyer!" John elbowed 'Lizabeth.  
"Oh, right. Right, I knew that. I completely knew that." 'Lizabeth scoffed, waving a hand airily.  
"Whatever, Liz." John laughed. "You thinking about asking anyone, Liz?"  
'Lizabeth looked momentarily startled. "Well, I entertained the thought of Cedric Diggory for about half a second, then I remembered he's going with Cho Chang. Then I thought about Harry Potter, and then I remembered Hermione Granger and assumed they'd go together, and plus he's a champion and has to dance first. I don't want to do that. So, I don't know. Dancing's really not my thing anyway."  
"Dull." Sherlock commented, avoiding another gaggle of girls.  
"Hey!" 'Lizabeth cried. "You try dancing. I bet you're rubbish at it too."  
"Hardly. Mummy made me take ballroom dancing lessons as a child. Mycroft as well. Horrifying experience. Unfortunately, it was impossible to avoid learning something." Sherlock said, subtext: obviously.  
'Lizabeth rolled her eyes. "Well, I've got a meeting with Professor Flitwick. Catch you boys later. I'll meet you at dinner."  
With a little wave, 'Lizabeth took off running across the courtyard. She skidded comically around a large group of Durmstrang boys, and flushed bright red as she nearly collided with Viktor Krum himself.  
Once she was out of sight, John turned to his remaining companion.  
"Why don't you ask Liz to the ball?" He suggested warily.  
"Why on Earth would I do that?" Sherlock snorted. "Doesn't going to a ball require romantic feelings?"  
"Not necessarily. Sarah and I aren't dating."  
"Please John. It's obvious you harbor feelings for her. You seemed quite eager to be her Potions partner the other day. Which by the way, 'Lizabeth arranged to be moved to my table to leave you partnerless." Sherlock explained.  
"She-what? Ugh. I knew it was too easy." John rubbed his face with his hands.  
"I told you it was obvious, John." Sherlock smirked.  
"Alright, fine. Well, what other girl would you take?" John tried.  
"I didn't plan on going at all. I planned on staying in the common room and studying."  
"Okay, so what if Liz doesn't get a date? Would you like to have her hiding in the girls' dormitory, crying because some bloke told her she wasn't worthy?"  
Sherlock was quiet for a moment. "No. She deserves to experience the Ball for whatever it's worth. She enjoys that sort of thing...parties." Sherlock muttered.  
"See?"  
"Alright, fine. I'll take 'Lizabeth. You ask Sarah Sawyer. I hope I don't regret this."  
With that Sherlock stalked off in the same direction 'Lizabeth had just disappeared in.

"What is taking them so long? This is tedious and boring." Sherlock muttered, pacing back and forth.  
"I'm sure they just lost track of time." John replied, shaking his head at his friend.  
"Liz is usually punctual. On time. She's never late for anything of importance. Is this not important to her?"  
"Mate, you're stressing. Calm down." John chuckled.  
"But, John-"  
"Oi, shut it Holmes. Your worrying can be heard from the top of the grand staircase." This quip was met with a small giggle.  
Both boys' heads snapped up to face the top of the staircase. There stood there dates. Sherlock had no interest in Sarah Sawyer, but it didn't matter. He couldn't take his eyes off his friend. Was that his friend? Logic said it was, but the tall beautiful young woman in front of him was surely not the clumsy, mischievous 'Lizabeth Page.  
Her long mane of corkscrew curls had been brushed properly and fell in layers of perfect black spirals down her back. She wore a long luxurious blue dress that showed off her thin waist and perfect normal chest. Her bright alive blue eyes were framed by little dark makeup, but all the same she hardly looked like Liz.  
"Oi! Quit staring. Am I that pretty?" 'Lizabeth snapped, finally making her way down the stairs to Sherlock's side.  
"You're...amazing." Sherlock croaked out.  
"Oh, am I? Good to know. C'mon, let's go watch the champions come in. You won't believe who Krum's date is." 'Lizabeth was already yanking on his dress robe sleeve.

"Oh wow, I LOVE the Weird Sisters. They trump Muggle music so much! I am totally going to have to show you some Muggle music someday."  
'Lizabeth was yelling over the bass of the music. She was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. Every so often she would spin in a twirl to the music beat.  
Sherlock smirked at her from where he was sitting. The girl was actually really adorable when she was excited, which was almost always.  
"Liz, sit down. You're going to hurt yourself."  
"No! Come on, let's dance. John and Sarah are out there." 'Lizabeth whined.  
"Oh, alright. If it will shut you up."  
"Yay! C'mon!"  
'Lizabeth grabbed his hand and yanked him to his feet. She reached one hand down to gather her skirt, so she wouldn't step on it.  
She led him out into the mix of students, taking both his hands in hers. He noticed how small they were. He smiled as she danced with him. It was a silly dance, that was just swaying and holding hands. But it had 'Lizabeth grinning and laughing and it was wonderful to see her like that.

"Thank you so much for taking me. This was so much fun." 'Lizabeth gushed, swinging her hands as she skipped ahead of Sherlock.  
They had planned to walk John and Sarah back to Gryffindor tower, until the couple suspiciously disappeared halfway through the dance. Leaving Sherlock and Liz to walk back to their own tower alone.  
'Lizabeth was still high on the excitement of the ball. She was skipping down the hallway, waking every portrait she passed. She was giggling and chattering about how fun the ball was.  
"Are you sure the Weasleys didn't slip anything into the punch, Liz?" Sherlock chuckled.  
"Oh, sorry. Am I acting strange?" 'Lizabeth suddenly sobered up, calming down and returning to walk slowly beside Sherlock. "I was, wasn't I? I used to have a Muggle neighbor who was on a substance. He was always really loopy. Like being on Felix Felis."  
She smiled sweetly and took Sherlock's hand, leaning a little on his shoulder.  
"John talked you into taking me, didn't he?" She murmured.  
"Yes."  
"Did you want to take me?"  
"Of course. You were my best friend. I didn't want you to miss out."  
"Oh."  
"Sorry, that wasn't the correct response."  
"No, no. That was perfectly correct. Very Sherlockian." 'Lizabeth grinned.  
The two fell into silence, just continuing to walk side by side. 'Lizabeth would occasionally swing their joined hands. Then she suddenly jumped, grinning like a fool.  
"Oh! Oh! I completely forgot, I promised a friend a dance. Oh, geez. I've gotta go. I'll tell Ginny you said hello; she'll appreciate that." 'Lizabeth started to turn around and head back to the Great Hall, paused and turned back around.  
"Sorry to dash off. Good night, Sherlock!"  
'Lizabeth then pushed herself onto her toes and pressed her lips to his cheek. She left a kiss lingering there and then she was gone, running down the hall like a dementor was at her heels.  
Sherlock for once didn't have a surefire reaction to his friend. He just stared after her retreating form, mind whirring, trying to come up with some logic explanation for 'Lizabeth's actions.  
He could find none.

"I can't STAND that- that-"  
"Be nice." John warned.  
"WITCH!" 'Lizabeth shrieked. "Who does she think she is? Carving kids' skin, banning perfectly talented kids from Quidditch, telling ME to tame my hair?"  
Sherlock was staying surprisingly quiet as he listened to his friend's rant. She was only ranting because of him. He had been the genius one to start a fight with the new Defense professor.  
"I know, Liz. We agree. Quit screaming, before she comes and gets you." John whispered.  
"I'll give her Hell if she does. She does NOT touch my friends and get away with it." 'Lizabeth fumed.  
"Liz." John warned as they passed a group of Slytherins.  
"I don't care if they hear me. I want a scar on my hand too, if that's what it means to be sane." 'Lizabeth growled, glaring at the snakes until they were past them.  
"Liz, don't say that." John tried.  
"Why not? It's true."  
"Liz."  
"Never mind. You have Quidditch practice, John. I'm taking Sherlock back to the common room to take care of his hand."  
"Yeah, alright."  
"Good luck." Liz gave John a quick peck on the check and then dragged their tall, dark friend away.

"What did you even say to her?" 'Lizabeth asked, beginning to unwrap the makeshift bandage around Sherlock's hand.  
"Corrected her misidentification of a spell."  
'Lizabeth sighed, shaking her head. "Sherlock, you know that this is coming from me and that I enjoy correct idiots as much as you do, but can you please keep from correcting Umbridge?"  
She pulled the last of the bandage off the wound, beginning to inspect while she awaited Sherlock's reply. She winced at the sight. That angry red phrase stretching across the pale skin. 'I am not a genius, and will not act like one.' The lines were written in Sherlock's flowing script but the words were destroyed by the angry blood red hue of their marks.  
"I suppose I can try." Sherlock murmured.  
"Please do. For me."  
Sherlock rolled his eyes and let 'Lizabeth do her work. She was quiet as she applied a handmade potion and rewrapped bandages around his hand. It was so quiet that if one listened close enough, they would be able to hear the girl's thoughts.  
"You're going to get yourself a detention." Sherlock finally broke the silence.   
"Argh! How did you know?" 'Lizabeth cried.  
"You're 'Lizabeth. It's obvious." Sherlock smirked.  
"Oh, Merlin." 'Lizabeth sighed.

"Think of something happy. The happiest thing you've ever felt."  
'Lizabeth paused in awe as the Harry Potter walked past her. She couldn't help the huge grin that stretched across her face.  
She watched as silvery wisps began to fill the room. People succeeding in the brilliant Patronus charm.  
"Happiest memory, eh?" She mused, twirling the thin rod of wood in her hand. "What could that be?"  
"Presumably something dull." Sherlock muttered.  
"Be nice, Sherlock." John scolded.  
"Yes, be nice. Think of something happy." 'Lizabeth giggled.  
"Already done." Sherlock muttered.  
"Oh? Prove it." 'Lizabeth taunted.  
She smiled, watching Hermione Granger produce a shimmering otter, and Ron Weasley released a lovely Jack Russell.  
"Fine." Sherlock sighed, then with a flick of his wand. "Expecto Patronum."  
A slight whooshing sound errupted and then out of Sherlock's wand leapt a graceful black leopard. Of course the feline was shimmering silver now, but the underlying color of deep ebony was there. The great cat stalked round and round 'Lizabeth and John before curling up around Sherlock and vanishing.  
"Simple." Sherlock smirked.  
"Brilliant. What'd you use?" 'Lizabeth breathed.  
"That's for me to know and you to wonder." Sherlock smirked.  
'Lizabeth huffed and spun to face her other friend. "Well, how about you John?"  
John screwed up his features and rearranged his grip on his wand. "I'll give it a try. Don't expect much."  
He gave his wand a wave. "Expecto Patronum!"  
His other hand flew to his wand as it reacted to the spell coursing through it. The trio watched as a glowing silver golden retriever bounded out from the wand and barked loudly before disappearing.  
"Ooh, cool! My mum used to have one of those as a kid. He was really sweet and loving. Wonder if that's why it's yours, John." 'Lizabeth grinned.  
"Of course that's why, it's only logical." Sherlock piped up.  
"Logic, geez Sherlock! We're wizards for Merlin's sake!" 'Lizabeth giggled.  
"Fine. Do magic then, 'Lizabeth." Sherlock quipped, gesturing to the silver animals appearing amongst them.  
"Fine, I will!" 'Lizabeth turned on the spot, pointed her wand and shouted. "Expecto Patronum!"  
Her heart sank as her wand spluttered a wisp of silver smoke. She lowered her wand arm and looked at the ground.  
"Try again." John coaxed.  
"I thought it'd be good enough. It was the day I found out I was a witch." 'Lizabeth mumbled.  
She twirled her wand again and then she spun and pointed the wand straight at Sherlock. "Expecto Patronum!"  
She giggled as she watched her silver animal jump forward, well okay it actually flew. As it was a massive silver hawk. It gave a wild shriek and flew directly at Sherlock. He stared straight at it until it vanished mere inches from his face.  
"That. Was. Brilliant!" 'Lizabeth cried, bouncing up and down and clutching her wand in a death grip.  
"That was impressive." Sherlock muttered.  
"Impressive! That was amazing!" 'Lizabeth giggled.  
"So, we have a leopard, a retriever, and a hawk. Interesting trio." John mused.  
"Well, we're a strange trio. What'd you expect?" 'Lizabeth grinned in a way only she could.

"Ooh, that nasty little snake!"   
"Shut up, Liz!" John muttered.  
"But-" 'Lizabeth tried again.  
"Do be quiet, 'Lizabeth." Sherlock growled. "Or he'll hear us and we won't get any evidence."  
'Lizabeth finally shut up, and the trio continued to stalk their prey.  
Their "prey" to be exact was one Draco Malfoy, who had been spotted dodging Prefects by both Mycroft and Lestrade. He had also been spotted disappearing into the Room of Requirement.  
Which is wear Sherlock, John, and 'Lizabeth were trying to catch him. 'Lizabeth had noticed the Slytherin leaving dinner early and tapped her Ravenclaw companion on the shoulder, who tapped their Gryffindor companion and the trio set off after the snake.  
So far, they had discovered no evidence. Not a single stray bit of info went unnoticed and yet not a hair was out of line, besides Malfoy's generally jumpy behavior and these trips to the Room of Requirement.  
"Think it's dark magic?" 'Lizabeth asked, once Malfoy had slipped into the disappearing door.  
"Of course not. Dumbledore would know about it if it was." John protested.  
"Don't be so sure, John." Sherlock quipped. "Slytherin is well known for the users of the dark arts. Even Vol-"  
"Don't-" John interrupted. "Don't say it."  
"Oh, c'mon John. It's a name." 'Lizabeth giggled. "Voldemort. There I said it. Geez, I want my name to be that famous some day."  
"Liz." John groaned.  
"It would be nice, wouldn't it? Sherlock mused. "I suppose Mycroft would much like the same thing. After he's Minister of Magic, of course."  
"Sherlock." John sighed.  
"Seems we're no longer amusing our companion, Sherlock. Perhaps we should go." 'Lizabeth grinned.  
"Perhaps we should. Library?" Sherlock smirked.  
"Yes, see you in the library later then, John." 'Lizabeth gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then she and Sherlock were off to the library together.  
Somedays John wondered if anything had changed between those two...

"You can bloody well believe I won't curse a first-year!" 'Lizabeth's shriek was probably heard all the way in the dungeons.  
She glared hotly at the greasy Death Eater in front of her. None of the D.A. denied that Alecto and Amycus Carrow were Death Eaters, not professors. But very few called them out on it. 'Lizabeth being one of the ones who do. Sherlock and John were perfectly fine with staying out of trouble, so they could aid their friend when she got too far in over her head.  
"What did you say?" Professor Amycus Carrow hissed.  
"I. Will. Not. Curse. An. Innocent. Child." 'Lizabeth spat, speaking every syllable with a staccato beat.  
"Crucio!" The Professor shouted with wand pointed at 'Lizabeth.  
As good as the girl had become at ignoring the effects of curses, she hadn't mastered how to deflect a Cruciatus Curse. No one could.  
Her pain-filled scream was nearly as loud as her rejection. She quickly dropped to her knees and cried out again. Sherlock could already see her tears.  
This continued for at least ten minutes. Then Amycus stopped and stepped back, leaving 'Lizabeth shivering on the classroom floor.  
"No one help her." He bellowed, clearly eyeing Sherlock. "Observe, class. The face of a criminal beaten."  
Sherlock bit back his retort. It'd do no good for both him and 'Lizabeth to be injured. John couldn't care for them past the common room. And Sherlock knew Liz would be sleeping curled against him in the common room tonight. She always did after she was attacked for standing up. She needed the comfort for her bouncy energy to revive. Otherwise she sank into a depressed state that was nowhere near recognizable as 'Lizabeth Page.  
But 'Lizabeth was a fighter to the bone.

"C'mon, Harry's back. We gotta fight so he can find that thing." 'Lizabeth cried, leading her friends onto the battlefield.  
Around them curses were flying and giants were smashing walls and general horrible-ness was occurring. But 'Lizabeth was all for running head-long into the battle.  
She whipped curse after curse off at the passing Death Eaters. Sherlock and John constantly covered her back as she gave no thought to her own safety. She had no idea what would happen if her friends lost her.  
It wasn't long before the trio found themselves locked in a three-way duel with a trio of Death Eaters.  
'Lizabeth was pitted against a sultry Death Eater who didn't bother to hide her face, she was nearly as infamous as Bellatrix Lestrange. Irene Adler. Always refered to as The Woman, despite her not being the only woman in the Dark Lord's forces. She was cunning and quick, but Liz was quicker and sharper.  
John was facing against a Death Eater who took any risk. A master of long distance spellcasting. He followed around his 'friends' with wand at ready. Sebastian Moran they called him. Best shot this side of the Atlantic. Little did he know, John was a better shot.  
While Sherlock Holmes finally met his match. A Death Eater nearly as mad as he was. A true pychopath. James Moriarty, better known as Jim from the Ministry. He infiltrated the Ministry of Magic a few months back under the cover of Jim from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A witty man, and a sneaky git. But Sherlock was cunning and more witty than the world combined.  
The D.A. Trio escaped with no more than a few scrapes and a half of Liz's ear missing. She wouldn't miss it. Meanwhile, Moriarty's band got a oneway trip to Wizarding Hell.

A new sign adorned the bricks along Diagon Alley. It was everywhere in flashy blue and yellow writing.  
'Sherlock Holmes and Elizabeth Page, Consulting Detectives.  
You call us when the Ministry is out of it's league-which is always.   
Now located at 221B Baker Street, London.'  
John Watson found himself a decent job at St. Mungo's, but still tagged along with Sherlock and Liz's cases involved medical matters.  
Greg Lestrade joined the Aurors and called in London's Consulting Detectives when something went terribly wrong.  
And of course, Mycroft occupied a minor position in the Ministry, but thought he was the bloody Minister of Magic.  
Liz met a lovely man from one of Diagon Alley's bookshops and fell head over heels for him. Later she became Mrs. Sean Turner.  
But she still returned now and again to 221B to be a part of her original trio of trouble.

4\. Genderbent  
"Aunt Sheryl! I'm bored!"  
Joan Watson sighed, watching her adopted son flop down on the sofa moaning about his boredom. Of course at the moment her flatmate, and Liam's other mother, Sheryl Holmes was busy with her microscope at the kitchen table.  
"Sorry, Liam. Why don't you text Shawna?" Joan tried.  
The boy in question just sighed loudly, blowing his long black bangs out of his eyes. Then he groaned loudly. "She's gotta work today. Her boss kicked me outta the coffee shop last time I showed up."  
"What did you do?" Joan asked, knowing full well she'd probably regret asking.  
"I told him he shouldn't cheat on his wife, and besides the woman he was cheating with was cheating on him as well." Liam sighed.  
"I blame Sheryl for your behavior." Joan muttered.  
"You're the one who picked the boy up off the street." Sheryl commented without looking up.  
"Yeah, well, at the time he looked helpless. I couldn't leave him. He wouldn't even go to your poxy homeless network."   
"BORING!" Liam yelled. "I don't need anyone's help. And I was not helpless, Joan."  
"Nevermind that, Liam. Lestrade just texted me. We have a case." Sheryl said suddenly, heading for the door.  
"You know she has a name." Joan sighed.  
"Yes, but Lestrade is so much cooler than Gwen." Liam chimed in with a grin.  
"Try telling that to her." Joan allowed herself a smile.  
"Milo found it pretty funny when I told him on Monday at the lab. Well, when he quit staring at Aunt Sheryl." Liam chuckled.  
"I'm sure he did." Joan shook her head.  
"Would you two hurry up? We don't have all day. I want to get there before Anderson messes with the evidence." Sheryl complained from the front door.  
"Coming, Aunt Sheryl!" Liam grinned and then ran down the stairs to cure his boredom.  
Thank God, Joan thought. Those two are a disaster without a case.  
Either way she followed them both to the cab.

5\. Wholock  
"Sherlock Holmes." The tall girl with the mane of dark curls said, slamming a heavy book on the TARDIS console.  
"Sherlock Holmes?" The man beside her with the bowtie at his neck looked at her quizzically.  
"Sherlock Holmes," She confirmed. "I want to see if he's real. I'd like to meet him. More than I want to meet William Shakespeare or George Orwell."  
The man, known to most as The Doctor, sighed. He shook his head at his companion, formally known as Elizabeth Page--mostly known as 'Lizabeth. She could be very demanding about where she wished to take his time machine.  
"I can't guarantee a result unless I know a time." The Doctor said, afraid of disappointing the bouncy teen.  
"Modern age. The same age you picked me up in. Try 221B Baker Street, London. That's his address in the stories." 'Lizabeth grinned.  
"Alright, I can try." The Doctor sighed.  
Though he loved the big grin that cut across 'Lizabeth's face. "You can do it, Doctor!"   
She graced him with that big grin again and a wink of her navy blue eyes, and then she danced off.

"Oh, Doctor! You did it! I knew it!" 'Lizabeth flung herself into the Doctor's arms upon stepping out of the TARDIS.  
She beamed up at the Baker Street sign. She was practically glowing with excitement. She then danced up to the door embossed with 221B, and gave it a swift rapping knock.  
The Doctor watched her carefully, finding himself hoping a Sherlock Holmes would open that door. 'Lizabeth would be crushed if he didn't.  
It was only a few moments before a shorter older blond man opened the door and stared down at the peculiar girl on his doorstep.  
"Hello?"  
"Hi! Doctor John H. Watson, I presume. I'm 'Lizabeth Page, big fan. Is Sherlock Holmes here or am I off a month or two and just Mary's around?" 'Lizabeth said in quite a rush.  
But the man was apparently quite versed in people talking quickly because he shook his head a little before answering.  
"Yeah, Sherlock's around. Got a case?" Dr. Watson started to turn, but stopped. "Wait, who's Mary?"  
"Oops! Spoilers!" 'Lizabeth giggled. "Could I perhaps speak to Sherlock Holmes? Quite quickly too? I'm a bit pressed for time." 'Lizabeth turned to wink at the Doctor.  
"Hey, is that a blue phone box?" Dr. Watson asked.  
"Yes, yes. It's a rare anomaly. Can I speak to Sherlock Holmes?"  
"Yeah, uh, hold on." Dr. Watson turned from the door, closing it halfway.  
'Lizabeth stepped down from the doorstep. She grinned at the Doctor, and clapped her hands briefly. She pointed excitedly at the door and the doctor who stood in the doorway. The Doctor-not Watson-gave 'Lizabeth a double thumbs-up. Which, of course, caused her to grin even wider.  
Just then, Dr. Watson began shouting into the flat behind the door. "Sherlock, client here to see you!"  
A muffled deep voice could be heard, but not deciphered. Dr. Watson sighed, and began shouting again.  
"Actually, she's seems quite adamant about staying here on the doorstep."  
The deep voice responded again.  
"I don't know! It's a teenage girl, with a man waiting for her with a blue phone box."  
With that the response was light steps on a staircase, and then the door was wrenched from Dr. Watson. The good doctor was replaced by a tall pale man with a mess of dark curls. He had blue eyes that looked awfully hostile.  
The Doctor was completely prepared to yank 'Lizabeth away should things go badly.  
The man stared at 'Lizabeth expectantly. She smiled sweetly as she spoke, not the least bit intimidated. She'd faced Daleks with that same face...and won.  
"Hello, Sherlock Holmes. Name's Elizabeth Page; I'm a huge fan of your deduction abilities. Just wanted to give you a little heads-up to look out for me in the future. That's all." She flashed that overly-sweet smile again, starting to back away. "Pleasure to meet you two. Good day. Say hello to Lestrade for me!"  
"Wait," Sherlock Holmes spoke up. "I only have two types of fans."  
"Oh? What kinds?" 'Lizabeth grinned.  
"The catch-me-before-I-kill-again, and the your-bedroom-is-only-a-taxi-ride-away."  
'Lizabeth smiled. "Well, considering I'm only fifteen and I don't kill people, I don't think you have anything to worry about. So long!"  
She skipped back into the TARDIS without a glance back. There she grinned at the Doctor, who looked at her quizzically-this girl was strange, even for him.  
"Well, I suppose when you drop me off in a year, there's a very good chance I'll meet them again." 'Lizabeth grinned. "Now, let's go invade the International Space Station; I read a great book about the stuff they do up there and I'd like to see it firsthand."  
The Doctor grinned as he began to set the new coordinates. Yes, 'Lizabeth was strange but those two magnificent men in London would change her life for the better. And he couldn't keep her from that.

6\. Villain!Liz  
"I suppose you'd like good ole Doctor Watson to get out of this with as little wounds as you can help."  
Sherlock Holmes glared at the woman who danced around him. She drew her tongue across the blade of the knife she held. Her long curls of dark hair-much like his own-swished with every movement she made.  
"Of course." Sherlock answered in a measured voice.  
"Ooh, too bad!" The woman cackled, skipping over to stand next to her burly henchmen.  
She grinned wickedly at poor John Watson, being held at gunpoint by one of the henchmen. His hands were wrenched behind his back by the other.  
"See, I have no intention of letting either of you get out unscathed." The woman laughed humorlessly again.  
This time she paired it with dragging the blade of her knife across John's cheek, drawing blood along the blade. John hissed in response, but made no other movement.  
Then the woman lifted the blade to her lips again, and ran her tongue along the line of John's blood.  
"Mmm, spicy!" She cackled. "Now where was I? Oh! Right, the untimely end of the great Sherlock Holmes! Along with his faithfully stupid sidekick, John Watson! Come one, come all, to the show down of the century!"  
The woman paused to cackle a bit more, then she spun to face Sherlock again, completely ignoring the gun pointed at her.  
"Now, I am impressed. LMP is all I left and yet, you traced it back to me. Impressive, indeed. Of course, I knew that bumbling detective inspector would miss all the clues. Daft one, isn't he? Shame that London has that to rely on to stop their criminals now." The woman gave a wicked smirk. "Once you're gone, it won't be long before us criminals run London ourselves."  
"You'll never get past my brother." Sherlock growled.  
"Who? Portly old Mycroft? Oh, little do you know that I already have someone taking care of him. By tomorrow, the Queen will be under my rule." The woman grinned.  
"I won't go down without a fight." Sherlock hissed.  
"No, I don't expect anything less. So, shall we begin?"  
The woman spread her arms wide and her henchmen let John drop to his knees. The two burly men melted into the shadows of the abandoned warehouse.  
"Just us three. The original trio. The World's Second Consulting Detective against the First and his faithful doctor. The match of the century! This honestly should be televised. Perhaps I should have requested it be before I took care of Mycroft."  
The woman actually frowned, and for a moment Sherlock got a glimpse of the young teen he used to calm after her horrid nightmares, but then the frown was gone and was replaced with a sneer.  
"Pity Uncle Myc had to go, but some people are just too stubborn to subdue. Oh, well. Anywho, enough chatter. Let us commence this showdown!"  
With a wild cackle, 'Lizabeth flung the knife at Sherlock's head.


End file.
